


Peace to my soul

by SourwolfZiam



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Confessions, Eulogies, Flashbacks, Here we go, Let me know if I have to tag anything else, M/M, Sadness, Serious Injuries, church, funeral au, major sadness, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourwolfZiam/pseuds/SourwolfZiam
Summary: Louis was sitting in the back of the church, slowly breathing through his mouth as his bandaged ribs painfully throbbed. Dr. Kenya had suggested that he stay in the hospital until Sunday, but he couldn’t.It was Friday, and it was the funeral. He had to see.. his face one last time.He had to say goodbye.Funeral AU where Louis says goodbye to Harry.





	Peace to my soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!!!!! This is my first fanfic with a major character death, and I tried to treat it with the amount of respect and angst it deserved. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this.
> 
> PS: There is a small moment where Louis wished he was dead, so minor suidal thoughts.

Louis was sitting in the back of the church, slowly breathing through his mouth as his bandaged ribs painfully throbbed. Dr. Kenya had suggested that he stay in the hospital until Sunday, but he couldn’t _._  

It was Friday, and it was the funeral. He had to see.. _his_ face one last time.

He had to say goodbye.

 

Louis wasn’t blind to the fact that people at the funeral were glancing back, watching him occasionally.

He had seen the looks of surprise on their faces that he chose to sit so far from the coffin. They knew him; they knew this was his best friend’s funeral. Why wouldn’t he be closer? There was an obvious space left open for him in the first pew.

The service was beautiful. There were tearful and heartfelt eulogies, dozens of flower arrangements, the church filled with everyone dressed in black, crying silently or sitting with grief-filled faces.

Harry always hated seeing people sad.

That’s who was getting buried today.

Harry Styles.

He was dead. Louis wished it was him instead. 

Gemma Styles, Harry’s sister, was reading a poem titled “Until we meet again”. It was gorgeous and heartbreaking.

 

Louis felt numb, despite the constant pain he was experiencing.

The week he spent in the hospital bed hadn’t really helped him process the fact that he would never talk to Harry again. Never hear him laugh at his own stupid jokes again.

Louis loved those stupid jokes.

A small whimper escaped his lips, and he felt tears prick in the corner of his eyes.

Louis felt Zayn take his right hand and squeeze it gently, and he squeezed back without looking away from Gemma. If he looked at Zayn right then, he would start crying and Louis feared that he would never stop.

When Gemma finished the poem, she sat down next to her mom.

 

Father Abraham went to the front and read out of the Bible, before saying a quick prayer.

“The family would like to call up Louis Tomlinson to say a few words.”

Louis took a deep breath and stood up slowly.

He’s been waiting for this moment. Anne had asked him on Tuesday if he could say a few words at the funeral, since he had been one of the people who’d known Harry the best.

Louis didn’t deserve this honor, but he could not find it in his heart to say no to her.

Careful not to jostle his cast-wrapped left arm, Louis walked to the front of the church. His sister, Felicite, gave him a small smile of encouragement as he walked past her and the rest of his siblings sitting with Dan in the second pew.

Louis slowly dragged his eyes to the casket, which was placed near the pastor’s preaching stand.

Louis barely prevents himself from throwing up as he stepped up to the casket and sees Harry laying in it.

“H.” Louis breathes.

It hit him again.

Harry is dead. Harry is _gone._ His Hazza would never come back to him again.

Louis would never get to hold him again.

He bit his lip to prevent a scream ripping from his throat.

Breathe.  

In. 

Out.

In.

Out.

 

Louis takes one final look at Harry’s face. He looks so peaceful. He was wearing his Sunday best, his face beautiful, even in death. Not even the jagged scar running from the corner of his right eye down to just above his upper lip could mar his gorgeous features.

Louis waited until he was sure he wouldn’t start crying before he painfully climbed the five steps up to the stand.

Once he was standing behind it, Louis looked out at all the faces staring back at him.

He avoided looking directly at Anne and Gemma. It wasn’t that long ago that they had lost Robyn to cancer.

Now they had to bury Harry as well.

Louis wasn’t surprised to see Harry’s biological father sitting next to Gemma. This was his son, after all.

Louis recognized Harry’s teachers, his childhood and high school friends, the women Harry had worked with at the bakery, the school’s librarian who Harry had greeted every time he went there, his family members and the many other people who had been privileged enough to have Harry’s love, loyalty and respect.

Louis closed his eyes briefly, steadying himself before opening them again, his eyes on the last row in the church where Niall, Liam and Zayn sat. Louis didn’t know how he could have survived this week if it hadn’t been for them and his family.

 

The five of them became best mates on their first day at Miss Madeline’s Crèche 14 years ago. They were all in high school now, finishing their third term.

Zayn was going to attend the University of the Arts London, where he would study contemporary art and music. Niall was accepted into the School of Engineering and Materials Science to study sound engineering. Liam would stay in London to work at his father’s aviator business, building planes. He hoped to become a pilot himself. 

Zayn and Liam became a couple recently, after years of endless pining, so luckily they wouldn’t be far from each other.

Louis and Harry were both going to attend the University of London, where Harry would have studied education and Louis wanted to study English and Political Science.

Now…

 

Louis pulled out a piece of paper from his right pant pocket, smoothing it out on the flat service of the stand. He’d written his eulogy the night before, ugly sobs ripping through him as he did so.

 

Louis shifted on his feet, trying to relief his left leg from any extra pressure on it. The entire left side of his body was either in casts or bandaged tightly where the impact of metal and tree had collided into him.

“Harry Edward Styles loved birds” Louis started, his voice was tight and raw. He didn’t know whether he’d make it through this, but he’d try to.

“Harry ate ants until he was 7 years old” a small giggle through the church. “Harry loved peanut butter, but he didn’t eat peanuts. He would give his worldly possessions to a complete stranger if it meant they would have a better life. Harry was kind. He was an old soul, who’d listen to Fleetwood Mac and Elvis all day, but that didn’t stop him from listening to Nicki Minaj or One Republic. Harry was terrible at making jokes.”

Louis cleared his throat.

“Harry was an amazing friend, a loving brother and a doting son. He gave his all to those who mattered to him, and expected nothing back in return. He would have been an amazing preschool teacher, husband and father. I feel honored to have known him for almost my entire life.”

Louis felt tears run down his cheeks, but he didn’t bother with wiping them away. He felt the slight burn where the salty tear slid over his raw, healing left cheek.

Louis looked at the rest of the page. He still had the rest of his eulogy on the other side of the page. But... but he knew what he really had to do.

“I have something I need to say. It’s about the night Harry died.” There was a few murmurs throughout the church.

Louis didn’t look up from his page.

“Everyone knows that Harry and I were in the car together the night he died, last week Thursday. We were coming from my house, travelling to his. The icy road caused us to veer off the road uncontrollably and… and the car slammed into a huge tree” Louis almost whispered, focusing on the pain in his bandaged ribs, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Lou” Gemma said. Louis’ eyes lifted up, looking into her red-rimmed ones.

She didn’t look confused, unlike the rest of the church. Louis knew Zayn, Liam and Niall weren’t confused as well.

They knew the truth.

“No Gem, I need to say this” Louis said firmly, ignoring the slight wobble in his voice.

“Are you sure?” she asked, and Louis nodded. He was sure.

Gemma stared at him for a few seconds in silence before giving a sigh.

“Okay”.

Louis continued.

“The impact of the accident had killed Harry immediately, which is something I am forever grateful for. I would not have wanted him to suffer in any sort of way.” Louis’ eyes slid to the person on Gemma’s right side. “Anne, Harry and I were on our way speak to you. We needed to tell you something. We needed to tell you the truth.”

Louis kept his gaze firmly on Anne, whose eyes were wide, surprise mixed with the heartache and grief.

“Harry is, and will always be, the most important person in my life. He was everything I needed. The person I’ve been in love with since I was 16 years old.”

Silence.

Deep breathe.

“I asked Harry to come over last week Thursday. I’d been a coward for so long, scared that I would lose him as a friend if he knew the truth about my feelings for him. But, I told him the truth, that I loved him, and by some miracle he felt the same about me.”

A ripped of shocked breathes and murmurs filled the air.

Louis only focused on Anne whose expression morphed into one of significant understanding.

Louis read that expression and he knew.  

Perhaps he and even Harry had truly been the last ones to know about one another’s feelings for the other.

 

Louis still remembered the day he realized he was in love with his best friend.

The two of them were listening to music in Harry’s living room, and _Monday Morning_ came on. Harry had sang loudly to it, dancing around Louis while he ate a banana.

And that had done it for Louis; he was head over heels for this amazing idiot.

 

Once the two have them stopped snogging on Louis’ bed, they had got into Harry’s car. Dan, the girls and Ernie had been at the cinema that evening, so the two of them would go to his house first to tell Anne and Gemma the news.

Those had been the last few moments Louis was truly happy and carefree, sitting in that 2012 Range Rover, next to the man he loved.

 

After the accident, Louis had been in a coma for two days. He had cracked three of his ribs, his femur was fractured and his left arm had been broken.

Louis woke up slowly on Saturday morning, waking up to his body in pain and Zayn standing by his bedside with a stricken, gut wrenchingly broken expression, telling him that Harry was dead.

Louis had thrown up next of his bed, and he was medicated in order to calm him down. That weekend was spent in numbness and disbelief. Louis spoke to no one, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It was only on Monday that he had told the three of them, and Gemma (who’d come to visit him at the same times as Liam, Niall and Zayn) why they had been in the car that night.

Louis had fully expected them to hate him, but they had all been accepting and just grateful that he was alive. It was almost unbearable to Louis then.

“You deserved to know. You all did” a cold silence had fallen over the church. Louis looked up. There were a few disgusted faces staring back at him.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

The people who mattered the most were the two families in the first two pews, and the three boys sitting at the back.

Dan, Lottie and Fizzy were all looking equally proud and heartbroken for Louis. He would have to speak to them later on when they got home.

Anne gave Louis a nod and a gentle smile. He felt a small piece of weight lifting off his shoulders.

 

Louis left the stand, and with a quiet “I love you, H” to the coffin, Louis sat down in the open seat next to Anne, giving her a watery smile as she gently patted his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you. That was very brave” Gemma whispered to him, leaning pass her mom to look at him.

“Harry would have wanted me to do it”.

Gemma sniffed and nodded, and straightened up again. Father Abraham went up to the stand again.

Louis bowed his head as they were led into the final prayer of the funeral.

He knew what came next: allowing himself to live.

It’s what Harry would have wanted.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this!!!!
> 
> All kudos and comments are appreciated.
> 
> My social medias are  
> Twitter: Malikah_Meyer  
> Tumblr: SourwolfZiam
> 
> xx


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